


A New Addiction

by tiptopevak



Category: Glee
Genre: Dom Kurt, Dom/sub Undertones, M/M, Skank Kurt Hummel, Sub Blaine
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-07
Updated: 2016-06-07
Packaged: 2018-07-12 21:56:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,524
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7123936
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tiptopevak/pseuds/tiptopevak
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He’s taller, this way—Blaine is, from where he sits on the countertop. His toes brush Kurt’s knees, and they curl when Kurt’s thumb eases Blaine’s lip free from the grip of his own teeth. </p>
<p>They’re staring again. Their bodies are tense, like springs fit to go.</p>
<p>It’s Blaine who asks the question. “Can I?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	A New Addiction

Seven in the evening of a baking summer day, and Kurt Hummel has a warm bundle of squirming Blaine Anderson in his lap.

There’s a set of white steps that lead into the shallow end of the swimming pool in the Anderson’s garden, and once Kurt arrived, he sat himself down there, cool water lapping at his ankles, watching Blaine with his chin resting in his hands.

_Swimming_ would not be the correct word for what Blaine was doing. It was more… flipping, kicking, spinning and trying to make Kurt laugh. At first, he was succeeding, and Kurt had to bite his lips to dull the smile that threatened to break free.

However, when Blaine paddled close enough, Kurt caught sight of the bright, red glow to his skin.

Now, with Blaine straddling Kurt’s lap and blushing pink like a whirl of candyfloss, Kurt huffs out a soft sigh. “Your _arms_ ,” he says, rolling his eyes. His fingertips are light as they skim and press up along Blaine’s forearms, the inside of his elbow, and back down again, but even so Kurt can feel the heat thick in the burned skin. Glancing up into Blaine’s flushed face, catching his eyes, Kurt raises his eyebrows in silent question.

Blaine nibbles his bottom lip, fingers twitching, unsure where to place his hands on Kurt’s bare chest and arms. “Um.” He stutters, and cracks an apologetic smile. “Maybe I forgot sunscreen?”

“… Forgot sunscreen. On… one of the hottest days we’ve had this summer.”

Blaine tilts his head, his smile both awkward and sweet.

Ten minutes later, they’ve relocated inside to the kitchen, seeking a break from the sun. Blaine hops up onto the countertop, dangling his feet above the floor tiles, and Kurt hangs opposite him. They share the very last glass of ice-cold lemonade between them, and when it’s Blaine’s turn to drink, he wraps both hands around the cup, sucking from the straw, and—something brazen unravels just below Kurt’s hips, so he looks away and breathes.

The first thing he does when his turn comes is press the drink to his face, feeling the coolness eat away at some of the blush sitting on his cheekbones.

“I can almost _see_ the sugar inside this stuff, B – you said it was homemade, right? What did you do, empty four packets of–” He pauses, realising that the kitchen is devoid of the humming Blaine has been doing for the last five minutes. Instead, Blaine is—staring. Right at Kurt.

“Wha-?”

Blaine pats the countertop beside him, inviting Kurt over. “Your hair. You changed it since last time.”

Kurt presses his lips together. “I did. How observant.”

“I like it. It’s–Suits your eyes,” Blaine says, softly. Kurt steps up closer to the counter, setting the glass to the side of them. Blaine’s eyes flicker back and forth, nervous at their proximity. After a steadying breath, he lifts his hand and gestures to Kurt. “Can I?”

“Go ahead, honey.”

Kurt watches Blaine’s face with amusement as Blaine processes the little endearment. He bites down hard on his bottom lip, pink petals of blush blooming on his cheeks. His fingers are soft where they press and prod at Kurt’s hair, working the plum and blue streaks out of the curl Kurt had attempted to hairspray them into. It had been pointless—the humidity destroying all hairstyle efforts the moment he stepped outside, so it doesn’t take long before Blaine has the locks undone and flopping over Kurt’s forehead.

“You’re adorable,” he chuckles.

Kurt bristles, eyebrows furrowing. “Adorable? Really? Of all words-?” He tilts away out of Blaine’s reach playfully, but all that succeeds in doing is drawing a toothy _grin_ out of Blaine, which Kurt’s heart stumbles over.

“Yes! Adorable. You look so different with your hair like that, so much… softer.”

“…. Softer. You are just—digging yourself a hole here, Blaine.”

They’re both grinning now, right at each other, so close. Kurt feels the happiness thick in his chest; feels… giddy with it. With Blaine, he feels stripped to the core, as if he’s laying his bare, true soul at Blaine’s feet. No walls, no facades, no cover-ups – it’s freedom.

He’s laughing and holding the glass up to Blaine’s lips for the last drop of lemonade when he catches sight of Blaine’s sunburned arms once again. Thankfully, as Kurt is pale-skinned and well used to protecting himself under the glare of the sun, he constantly carries around his sun-care products with him during summer. After grabbing a bottle of moisturising lotion from his bag, he pours some generously into his palms.

“This will help soothe the sting,” he promises, waiting for Blaine to extend his arm.

Blaine hesitates, briefly. Kurt can see the spark of indecision in his eyes, but when he goes to step back, Blaine shakes his head and smiles.

Kurt works as gently and efficiently as he can, eyes squinted almost shut with concentration. Blaine’s entire upper body is raw, very sensitive to touch, but Kurt knows that it would only feel ten times worse in the morning if they didn’t treat it right now.

“Okay, so remember what I said?”

“Apply suncscreen twenty minutes before going outside, and then immediately once I get outside. Reapply if I’ve been in the swimming pool,” Blaine recites, robotically.

“And then?”

“…. A-and then…”

Kurt rolls his eyes, busy massaging the lotion into the skin above Blaine’s collarbones. “Once you come inside at the end of the day?” he prompts.

“Oh! Moisturise. A lot.”

Kurt hums, nods his head in approval. “Unless you’re looking for trouble.” With that, he’s finished, having soothed the burn from Blaine’s fingertips all the way to his neck and chest. He glances up at his boyfriend with a grin, a playful comment on the tip of his tongue, but—Blaine is… Flustered. His eyes are big and wet, like spilled honey. On top of that, his cheeks are red with blush, and he’s—squirming.

Kurt pauses. While he’d been so fixated on applying the lotion, he had never really stepped back to look at the overall picture – which was, well. Kurt’s hands… all over Blaine’s naked skin.

“… _Oh_ ,” he breathes. “Oops.”

Blaine hiccups out a strangled-sounding breath, dropping his head.

“That… was…” He stutters, licking over his bitten lips.

Kurt can’t help himself, can’t stop himself from reaching out, fitting his palm and fingers softly to the line of Blaine’s jaw. He doesn’t want Blaine to ever feel embarrassed around him. He tilts Blaine’s chin up, thumb stroking gently over his skin. Sometime in the last ten minutes, they’ve rearranged themselves slightly –Blaine has parted his thighs, and Kurt now stands there, very close, where it’s warm and the scent of the lotion and chlorine and _nerves_ tangle in the air.

He’s taller, this way—Blaine is, from where he sits on the countertop. His toes brush Kurt’s knees, and _curl_ when Kurt’s thumb eases Blaine’s lip free from the grip of his own teeth.

They’re staring again. Their bodies are tense, like springs fit to go.

It’s Blaine who asks the question. All it takes is a sharp, tiny nod from Kurt.

Blaine’s palms are warm and sticky with lotion when he rests them on Kurt’s cheeks, cupping, _cradling_ , drawing Kurt all the way in to press a kiss to his lips. Just–once, before he pulls back an inch, his toes curl even more. _Breathes_. The tips of their noses nudge. One arm moves to curl around Kurt’s broad shoulders, the other holding his face. With a little hitch in his breathing, Blaine sinks in again.

This time, he opens his mouth—just slightly. Just enough parting of those berry-red lips of his to catch Kurt’s own, and _suck_.

It feels as if the groan has been hooked behind Kurt’s ribs and dragged out. “Fuck. Okay. Fuck,” he huffs, planting his hands at Blaine’s waist, pressing closer. With a quiet murmur of praise, he gently kisses Blaine again. Shows him how to tilt his head, and how to open his mouth like–

“Like _that_ ,” he whispers, babbling, pressing closer. “Just like that, honey. There we go.”

It is—the most intense thing Kurt has ever experienced. Blaine’s body, pressed right up against Kurt’s own, expands and relaxes with each overwhelmed breath he fights to bring into his lungs. He bends himself closer. Curls his shaking fingers into the collar of Kurt’s shirt, and steals the air right from Kurt’s mouth.

Kurt’s fingers are gripping tight at Blaine’s waist, at the cinch of his tiny waist, when Blaine—shudders, gasps, and tries to rock his hips forward.

Kurt—stops. His eyes immediately widen, whirlpool-blue irises riddled through with surprise. Unable to hold back the sound, he drops his forehead to Blaine’s shoulder, nipping tiny, sweet kisses into the crook of his neck, and _groans_ , “Good boy.”

“Kurt, oh my—What are we… In the _kitchen_?”

He’s flushing bright red to the very tips of his ears. Kurt files that information away carefully. Tucked in against his neck, hands pinning Blaine’s hips still, he whispers it again, his cheeks full with the smile.  


End file.
